


Take Your Time

by orionsfreckles



Series: Debt [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Minor Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, femme!reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23940985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionsfreckles/pseuds/orionsfreckles
Summary: A sequel to Debt
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Series: Debt [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725796
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Take Your Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt is back in town and the two of you simply can't wait to get back to your place

Months had passed since that fateful afternoon when Geralt of Rivia saved you from a monster in the woods, and you thought of the night you two had shared more often than you’d like to admit. You saw him everywhere; his eyes in the yellow poppies you planted in your garden, his silver hair in the reflection of light off water, the hitch of his breath in a gust of wind. You kept yourself busy, working late nights at Dedrik’s tavern and chastising yourself for thinking so often of a man who likely didn’t even remember your name.

“Y/N.”

You paused at the deep voice, but didn’t turn around. It sounded like his, but was probably just one of the regulars and you didn’t have time to be wishful. “I’ll be right with you, sir,” you responded, continuing to polish the last of a stack of mugs.

“Take your time,” he responded, and you obliged. It didn’t take long though before you turned around and were face to face with that razor-sharp jawline. You had heard stories of witchers’ heightened senses, rumours that they could hear heartbeats - if that was true, then Geralt definitely heard yours skip.

You cleared your throat and shifted your weight, “Back in town?” you asked, attempting to appear poised and unbothered by his long absence from your life. “Ale so good it brought you back for more?”

“Something like that,” Geralt responded. He looked you up and down, but it wasn’t thirst on his face; it was hunger. Slowly, he produced two coins and set them in front of you. “Drink with me.”

With a tight lip you took the coins and set them beneath the bar before filling two mugs of ale. You gave one to Geralt and kept the other for yourself, nodding towards a secluded booth in the corner of the tavern. The two of you walked over to it, sitting across from each other in silence for a moment before you could muster up the courage to talk. “If not the ale,” you asked, circling a finger around the rim of your drink, “then might I assume you’ve come for more repayment?”

He leaned back in his seat, taking another sip. “I was passing through town,” he said, “thought I might find you here.”

“Well, here I am,” you responded, uncertain of how to feel. The fact that he had remembered you and thought to come find you sent butterflies through your stomach, but you were sure his intentions weren’t nearly as romantic. “There are some rooms for rent upstairs if you’re leaving soon,” you continued on, “Dedrik charges by the hour.”

Geralt cocked an eyebrow and you wondered if maybe you had actually misread his intentions. “I was hoping to spend the night in that cottage of yours,” he said, “unless I’m not the only visitor you’ll be having tonight?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words. Other men had vied for your attention, sure, but your sheets hadn’t felt the warmth of another since that morning months ago when you awoke and found that Geralt had left in the night. “Only you, witcher.”

It wasn’t long before the two of you had drained your mugs and you had to go back to tending the bar. You expected Geralt to leave, but were happy to see him sitting at that booth for the remainder of the night, sipping on a few more drinks. His back was to the wall so that he might see the entirety of the room, but whenever you shot a glance in his direction he was staring only at you. Soon the two of you were the only ones left in the tavern and you hurried to finish the last of the dishes, eager to get home. As you hunched over the washbasin you soon felt a pair of hands on your waist, rubbing soft circles against your hips. “I’ll be done soon,” you said, “and then we can head home.”

“What if I don’t want to wait,” Geralt purred in response, nuzzling into your neck, “what if I want to fuck you right here and now?” There was alcohol on his breath. His hands continued to paw at you, growing more ravenous as he began to stray from your waist and hips down to your thighs and the supple curve of your ass. Your pulse began to quicken and you nearly dropped a dish. In your adulthood you had grown to become an independent woman and if you were nothing else, you were strong against the advances of men. But here you were, putty in the witcher’s hands.

Eventually you couldn’t take it anymore and spun around, grabbing the White Wolf by his cheeks and pressing your mouth to his as if he was a meal and you hadn’t eaten for days. He kissed you in return, hard and passionate. His tongue slipped past your lips and you felt his teeth graze your flesh, sending shivers through your body and causing a moan to vibrate between you. It wasn’t clear whether it was yours or his. You could have stayed there for hours, lips locked in embrace, but Geralt had other plans.

You felt his hands on your backside again, curving against the roundness of your cheeks and squeezing gently. He was being so soft, but all you could think about was how badly you wanted to feel the sting of his palms striking your ass. Soon he had hiked up your skirts and wrapped his forearms around your thighs, spreading them apart. You yelped into his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck for stability as he lifted you off the ground, legs wrapped around his hips in the perfect position to feel his package bulging against your smallclothes.

Geralt carried you out from behind the bar and you expected him to bring you upstairs to one of the beds you had mentioned earlier, but he instead chose a table square in the middle of the room. “I wanted to do this hours ago,” he grunted, setting you down on the edge of the table and beginning to unlace his trousers, “but I’d hate to make you feel like some common whore.”

“What if that’s how I like it?” the words came out of your mouth without a thought, but you were done with thinking. Thinking had gotten you nowhere in life but a dead-end job in a town you’d never left. It was time to take what you wanted.

A sensual growl rose up from some primal source deep within him as a devilish smirk spread across Geralt’s face. “Ask and you shall receive, girl,” he said, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, “kneel.” Immediately you were on your knees, doe eyes peering up at him as he pulled his bulging cock from his trousers. You took him in your hand and wrapped your lips around the base of his shaft, licking slowly up and down his length, peppering his cock with kisses and swirling your tongue around the tip of his head. Another sinful noise escaped his lips as he placed his hands on the sides of your face. “Suck.”

You did as you were told, taking him inside your mouth. His massive size made you gag, but only for a moment. Soon your head was bobbing up and down, your hand stroking the inch of him that your mouth couldn’t reach. Hick cock throbbed inside your mouth and he bucked his hips, fucking your face. Dulcet moans poured from his lips and you could tell he was close. “Gods,” his voice was breathy as he suddenly pulled himself from the grasp of your lips, “I want to be inside you.”

Grabbing you under the arms he pulled you up to standing and turned you around to face away from him once more. You felt one of his hands trace up your spine before tangling into your hair as the other gripped you at the hip. Soon you were bent over the table and he was pulling your skirts down, leaving your holes exposed to the open air.

His hand tightened its grip on your hair and you felt his thick cock rub against your folds, slick with your own excitement. In one fluid motion he plunged himself within you, this position allowing him to reach parts of you that hadn’t felt pleasure in a long time. Unlike the first time you had felt him inside you there was no subtle buildup in rhythm; he came at you with a vigorous rut and you were his cockhungry whore. Your hands gripped the sides of the table and your knees buckled beneath you as you let out cries of pleasure. His balls slapped against you with every thrust, creating lewd sounds that only made you slicker. “Geralt,” you said, gasping for air, “Geralt... I’m gonna..”

Geralt pulled back on your hair, causing you to arch your back and slam into him. He reached his other hand around your leg to grab you, rubbing quick circles against your clit. “Come for me,” he whispered in your ear, his assault on your pussy never wavering. The onslaught of stimulation coupled with his breathy words sent you over the edge, and you practically melted into a puddle on the table as the pleasure overtook you. It was the type of orgasm that radiated out from your soul, you could feel it in every inch of you. Your head was reeling and you screamed his name as your cunt pulsed with a heartbeat of its own. Were it not for Geralt’s grip on you, you would be on the floor.

This seemed to have a similar effect on him, and you soon felt yourself full of his warmth. When he finally pulled out from inside of you you squeezed your legs together, clenching yourself so as not to cause any spillage. Geralt saw this and chuckled softly, giving you a playful pat on the rear. “Wouldn’t want a mess on our hands, now would we?” he said, placing a kiss on the back of your neck before helping you with your skirts. You wondered how you were to walk home; not only were you full of his cum, but your legs felt as if they were made of gelatin. As if he had read your mind, Geralt wrapped his arms around your hips and hoisted you up to lay draped atop his shoulder. “It seems I’m always carrying you somewhere,” he said with a smirk you could not see. You smiled a grin that he could not see either, happy to be back in the arms of your witcher.


End file.
